God Still Don't Like Ugly (33 page)

I picked up the napkin and slid my chair back a few inches from the table. “Uh, Otis had an affair and you’re still with him? What happened to the woman?”

The last thing I wanted to hear was Rhoda telling me that she had killed somebody else. But I couldn’t imagine Rhoda knowing about her husband having an affair and her not taking some
fatal
action.

Maybe with middle age approaching, she had mellowed, I decided. I took a huge swallow of wine and braced myself. Then I asked, “Is that, uh, other woman . . . still around?”

CHAPTER 65

Rhoda’s face softened and she leaned across the table and mumbled just loud enough for me to hear, “Well, after what I did to my husband with that friend of his, I kind of expected that kind of payback.” She sighed and straightened up, rotating her neck as if it was in pain. Rhoda sighed again and rubbed her neck before continuing. “Uh, you remember that thing I did with you-know-who?” As far as I knew, I was the only person who knew that Rhoda’s deceased son, David, had been fathered by Otis’s best friend.

I nodded. “I’d almost forgotten about that,” I lied. I cleared my throat and steered the conversation back to Otis’s mistress. “Did you confront the other woman?” I stabbed at the plate of spaghetti that Rhoda had set on the table in front of me, spearing three meatballs at the same time.

“Oh, you goddamn right I did. I know you don’t think I’d let some bitch clown me. Shit.” Rhoda paused and held up her hand. “But I didn’t hurt her, if that’s what you’re wonderin’. At least, not physically.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Was she pretty?” I asked, talking with my mouth full.

We had picked up the spaghetti from Antonosanti’s, where Rhoda went almost every day to pay her respects to the late Carmine’s griev-ing family. She had started this ritual right after the old man’s fu-268

Mar y Monroe

neral. Her loyalty to her friends never ceased to amaze me. I guess that’s why I was so glad to be back in her fold. She was the kind of person you wanted on your side.

“Was that cow pretty?” Rhoda dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. “Only in a pig’s eyes. Once I got a gander at that face, I felt sorry for her. The girl was a real piece of work. It was no wonder that Otis was the only man she’d ever been with. Or so she claimed.”

“How could you feel sorry for the woman who wrecked your marriage?”

Rhoda’s eyes got wide and she rotated her neck. “She didn’t wreck my marriage! I felt sorry for her. And if you had seen her you would have felt sorry for her, too. She looked so much like James Brown, we all called her J.B.” Rhoda laughed. “Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a woman who looked like the Godfather of Soul? She even wore the same old tired Lord Jesus hairdo that James still wears to this today.

She claimed she didn’t know Otis was married. She packed up and went back to Mississippi that same night. As a matter of fact, I stood in her bedroom with a stick in my hand while she packed her shit. I wasn’t goin’ to use it, but I thought it would help her pack and it did. Oooooh, that Otis. He cried like a baby when I went home to cook his goose.

By the time I was through with his black ass, he was as humble as the Pope. I used his affair as leverage to make him move us back up here.

After that thing with, uh, that white girl that tried to ruin my brother, I knew I had to get out of Florida.”

I chose to ignore Rhoda’s comment about the white girl. I chuckled and stuffed more spaghetti into my mouth, sliding it into my jaw as I talked. “Otis is lucky you didn’t divorce him.”

“Now you of all people know that I am no fool. Divorcin’ Otis never even entered my mind. I love bein’ married. Where else would I find a man as good as Otis at my age and with two kids?”

“Good men don’t cheat on their wives,” I wailed, flooding my mouth with more wine.

“Girl, you got a lot to learn.” Rhoda drained her glass and snatched the bottle of wine in front of her and refilled her glass before she continued. She was tipsy and had started slurring her words. “My man works his fingers to the bone, gives me the whole paycheck, and does everything I tell him to do, see. And he serves up some good dick, anytime I want it. I got a fool and I know I got a fool. I got a good thing. Dynamite couldn’t separate me from him.” Rhoda laughed, GOD STILL DON’T LIKE UGLY

269

but there was a seriously sad look on her face. I didn’t know why, but my instincts were telling me that she was leaving something out.

“Don’t pay me any mind. My man is not a fool—he really loves me and I love him. Eat those meatballs, girl.”

Just then Jade, wearing a red dotted Swiss dress and shiny, black leather T-strap shoes, marched into the kitchen and started skipping in circles in front of Rhoda. “Mama, what’s a fool?” Jade asked.

“Uh, sweetie, did you clean up your room? Did you put all your toys away?”

“No, ma’am,” Jade pouted, still skipping in circles.

“Run and go clean up your room so your Auntie Annette won’t think you’re a little piggy.”

Jade gave me a smile and skipped away.

I tilted my head and smiled at Rhoda, stuffing more food into my mouth. “Well, I’m glad you came back to Ohio. I really missed you.

Oh, uh, that last time we talked right after I moved back from Pennsylvania, that stuff you told me—”

“About Buttwright?”

I nodded and slid my seat closer to the table, leaning my head toward Rhoda’s. In a low voice I said, “And your grandmother and the cop and the white girl.”

“What about it?” Rhoda now sounded as sober as a judge. Even though she had swallowed more wine.

“Was it all true?”

“Would it make a difference?” Rhoda asked, not blinking as she stared into my eyes.

I looked at the floor and shrugged. “Not really. Not now. It’s in the past and we’ve moved on.”

“Then let’s leave it in the past. We don’t ever have to bring any of that up again.”

“Then we won’t,” I said, reaching for more wine.

CHAPTER 66

Rhoda knew I was pregnant even before I did. On five different occasions when I was with her, I had to run to a toilet to throw up.

Once during a drive from the mall, she had to stop her car so I could throw up on the side of the freeway.

“When are you goin’ to tell Pee Wee?”

My mouth dropped open. “How do you know it’s his?”

“I’m not blind. Besides, I’ve always known that you and that brother were still foolin’ around.”

Telling Pee Wee I was pregnant with his baby was not something I planned to do anytime soon, if at all. He was involved with another woman and there was some talk that their relationship was serious.

However, I continued to let him crawl into my bed because he was the only man who was paying any real attention to me these days.

I went out with a few other men here and there, but sleeping with them and developing a relationship was something that did not happen. No matter how hard I tried. It was Pee Wee I was with when Jerome came by my house that night, a week after my lunch at Rhoda’s house.

Wearing nothing but my bathrobe, I opened my front door and went out on my porch. The night air was cool, but I was sweating like a bull. Pee Wee and I had just rolled out of my bed.

“Negro, what are you doing here?” I asked Jerome, letting my robe GOD STILL DON’T LIKE UGLY

271

fall open on purpose. I wanted him to see what he had given up. Now that I had accepted the way my body looked, and the fact that men other than Mr. Boatwright found it attractive, I reveled in the attention. My breasts, as big as globes compared to women like Rhoda, were still high and firm.

“Uh, look, baby, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’ve had a lot of time to think things over and I still think we have a chance to make a go of things,” Jerome told me, his eyes staring hard at my nakedness.

“I don’t think so,” I told him, letting my robe fall open even more.

“Look,” he continued, holding up both hands. “What you did in the past was your business. What I care about is the woman you are now. You were a good woman to me and for me. I . . . I realize that now. I mean, we had a good thing going. We had fun, we got along real good, and we were good for one another. “

“But what I did in the past with those men would always be in the back of your mind and someday it would make a difference. Again.

What do you think would happen if the rest of your family found out I slept with men for money?”

“Uh, they already know. Uncle Willie left no stone unturned. He told it all. But I don’t care what they think. And anyway, that’s
my
problem.”

“It would be too big of a problem. If we got back together and had kids, it would be their problem, too.”

Jerome shifted his weight to one side and let out a tired sigh. “I still love you, Annette. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I mean, I’m lonely for you, girl. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Look, if it would make you feel any better, I got a thing or two in my past that I would like to forget. There was a drug thing when I was up in Buffalo and there was a thing with an underage girl. That’s on my record and will be there ’til the day I die. It about killed my family, but they got over it. If they could get over that, they can get over anything. And—

and Uncle Willie is no angel, either. Right now as we speak, he’s trying to get out of going to jail for income tax evasion.” Jerome was frantic and I was enjoying it. “See, I just got a big bonus at work. We can go on a cruise before and after we get married. I’ll pay for everything. Come on, girl.
I need you
.”

The pleading look on Jerome’s face brought tears to my eyes. I never thought I’d see the day that a man would beg
me
to come back to him. I was flattered, but it still was not enough for me to change my 272

Mar y Monroe

mind. The damage had already been done to my spirit and it couldn’t be repaired.

I shook my head so hard, my braided hair batted my face. “It would never work, Jerome.” Caught off guard, I didn’t come across sounding as indifferent and cold as I should have. Part of the reason was, I still had strong feelings for Jerome, but I didn’t want him to know that. I stood up straight and narrowed my eyes, making him flinch.

“I’m not the woman for you,” I added with a snap.

Jerome stumbled and cleared his throat. Now there was a desperate look in his eyes. “Don’t you believe in the power of love?”

“Of course I do, but apparently you didn’t when it counted. I loved you at one time and you knew it. And even the power of love can only do so much.” I let out a deep breath and announced proudly, “Besides, I’m involved with somebody else.” I was glad Pee Wee came to the door, wrapped in nothing but a towel, to confirm my claim.

“Hey, brother, what’s goin’ on? Ain’t this a woman and a half?” Pee Wee said smugly, sliding his arm like a snake around my waist.

Jerome’s eyes shifted to Pee Wee’s arm, and then he just glared at Pee Wee. After doing that, Jerome turned around and left, walking with his head lowered. His shoulders sagged like an old man’s.

“So. Brother Cunningham tryin’ to get next to you again?” Pee Wee draped his other arm around my shoulder and guided me to my couch, where he pulled me down on his lap. I could feel his knees straining to support my massive weight, but since it didn’t bother him, it didn’t bother me.

“He can’t try hard enough,” I sighed, struggling to keep from sliding to the floor.

I felt bad about having to reject Jerome. He did seem sincere. But I felt even worse about knowing that I was carrying Pee Wee’s baby and not knowing when and if I would ever tell him.

CHAPTER 67

Despite the fact that I had aborted my first child, with Rhoda’s help, I had decided to keep the baby growing inside me. I had made enough mistakes. With life being as short as it was, it was time for me to stop interfering with God’s plans for me. Not willing to risk His wrath, and a disturbing dream I had the night before, had helped me make up my mind.

In the dream, I entered my living room from the kitchen after treating myself to a late-night snack. Pee Wee had just left, but I could still see him peeping in my living room window, like there was something he just had to see. The room was dark, but a stream of light coming from an unknown source helped guide me across the room. In the middle of the floor were two open coffins. I got close enough to see that Mr. Boatwright was in the first one. Huge black spiders and mag-gots crawled across his face. His lips appeared to be frozen into a cruel sneer. His hair was a matted cap of cobwebs. In the second coffin was a young woman who appeared to be about the same age that the child I had aborted would have been, had she been born. I blinked and the young woman sat up, as alive as I was. And she was beautiful. Her dark brown skin was as smooth as velvet. Thick, bow-shaped lips parted, displaying a dazzling smile. There were no creatures crawling on her face and there were no cobwebs on her head. I asked her who she was.

274

Mar y Monroe

“I would have been your daughter if you and Rhoda had not killed me before I could be born,”
was her response.

“I had to,”
I replied.
“I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Well, where I went to after you and Rhoda killed me, there were a lot of
other kids already there. A lot of us never got the chance to be born so we didn’t
have names. What would you have named me?”

“I don’t know. What names do you like?”

“I like Charlotte. That’s the same name of the old woman that was already
in the place that I went to when you killed me. She keeps me company.”

“Then you can call yourself Charlotte.”

The young woman closed her eyes and resumed her death pose in the coffin. I closed both the coffins as Pee Wee watched from the window that he was still peeping through.

I woke up shivering and crying. I knew then what I had to do. I had to keep my baby this time. Besides, at thirty-six, and no husband of my own in sight, I truly believed that it would be my last time to be a mother.